bakerstreet | ( on your doorstep )

[The one showing up on the door step. Prose preferred, assumed cr preferred]

[She's no doctor, but Jane's got one hell of a first aid kit. Interested?]

[Sure, let's give it a whirl]

[ fine with either. ]

[Jane would just be happy that she's not the one who injured him (specifically by hitting him with the van...). Interested?]

[ ooc: He'll be the one battered and on your doorstep. Be prepared to catch a collapsing heatwave. Or not. Let him fall, he's unconcious. He ain't gonna feel a thing. ]

[The one opening the door, as it were]

[Can be either]

[Probably going to the the one to take in, reluctantly.]

[Either.]

[She'd be likely to try and help a stray.]

[ooc: Either / or.]

(Either role's possible. Post-Witch Hunt preferred, although AUs could be cool. Not into Wardens for this. Similar canons welcome!)

[He's lost and likely bloodied and exhausted. Probably nearly collapsed at your door.]

Edited 2016-09-24 15:14 (UTC)

[can be either]

[Frank tries to take out his enemies without sustaining wounds in the process. Many days he succeeds; other days can end in extended self-patching sessions which leave him out of commission for long periods of time. If the Punisher hasn't been heard from in a few weeks, it's always because of serious wounds.

Tonight is worse than usual. One knee has been badly damaged thanks to someone attacking him with a lead pipe while he bleeds from a variety of stab wounds and slices from an enemy with an unusual aptitude for close quarters combat.

Although Frank knows he can clean, stitch up and wrap these wounds on his own, he's lost a lot of blood. On the way to the elevator in his building he stumbles in his attempts to walk on the busted knee, growing increasingly dizzy as he goes. At one point he falls heavily against someone's door, leaning against it with his shoulder. Still wearing his trench coat with several pistols and knives hidden inside, he would rather not catch anyone's attention.

If only staying conscious wasn't becoming such a burden.]

[ It's late, and if Beauty was asleep the way she should have been, she might not have heard the heavy thump against the apartment door. But as usual, she got caught up in a novel she was reading and lost track of time, so the sound makes her jump and set aside the book. There's no knock, no repeat of the noise, and she'd have dismissed it as her imagination except that she would swear there's someone out there.

Leaving the chain hooked, she cracks the door open enough to look out. Then gasps and unlocks it completely, the door flying open with the weight of the man leaning against it. Beauty manages to wrap both arms around him, and he's conscious enough to stay on his feet, but only the short distance it takes for him to stagger (with assistance) to the couch. She barely gets him there before he collapses. ]

Please don't die on my couch.

[ A quick assessment of his condition has her frantically hunting up her first aid kit and every towel in the house. Common sense tells her to call an ambulance, but the guns, knives and lack of ID tell her that maybe she should see if she can coax him back into consciousness first. She's seen him around the building, and always thought he looked military to her uncertain eyes. ]

[Though Frank fades in and out of consciousness, he isn't nearly aware enough to stop the woman from helping her inside her apartment and to her couch. Lying down feels like a blessing even if he can hardly call anything 'comfortable' at the moment.]

Yeah...

[He mumbles in response to whatever she just told him. His eyes are closed but he's aware enough to hear the woman rushing around, gathering things around the apartment. What she's up to? He doesn't know.

A pistol falls out of his trench coat and onto the ground next to the couch. Frank doesn't even glance at it, a testament to just how badly he's feeling right then.]

[ God, he must be in terrible shape if he doesn't even care that his guns are falling out of his pockets. Beauty sets the pistol carefully out of the way, and decides it's probably best to take away any other weapons he's carrying as well, for now. The last thing she needs is to be accidentally stabbed or shot. ]

Sorry, but these have got to go for a bit. You can have them back once you're actually capable of picking them up. [ Whatever obvious things that happen to be hanging out in his trenchcoat or visibly on his person join the pistol. ] I've seen you around the building, what's your name?

[ His clothes are soaked in blood, and she has half a mind to just get some scissors and cut them off. First though, she'll see if she can maneuver him out of the coat, and wrap towels around what seem like the worst of the wounds. Maybe they aren't as bad as they seem. Beauty's no doctor, she doesn't have the first idea what to do about a really serious injury, aside from the basic things everybody knows -- pressure to stop the bleeding, bandages to cover and protect the wounds, call 911 for help. ]

[Having his weapons taken away from him brings Frank around to alertness much better than them simply falling out of his coat. Tired and dizzy, he's at least a bit more lucid, squinting at the woman from his place on the couch and trying his best to assess the threat level.

...No, no threat here; she's just a woman who lives in his building. One who hasn't called for an ambulance yet, thankfully.]

Frank. [While he has enough sense about him, Frank goes to help her remove his coat and shirt, wincing as the movements jostle his wounds. It seems that the problem mostly lies with the bleeding, as the stab wounds haven't hit any organs or major arteries.]

Just... gotta stop the bleeding.

Edited 2016-09-26 17:00 (UTC)

[ Thankful that he's aware enough now to assist a little, Beauty gets him out of the coat. And then anything else he's wearing above the waist, figuring those are going to be the most dangerous injuries. ]

Hush, I know that much.

[ She's taken aback at what she realizes have to be knife wounds, glancing up at his face with a look of concern before applying pressure to the worst of them. It's lucky that Frank's conscious enough to lend a hand. ] Hold this one right here. Good God, what sort of fight were you in?

[Through the dizziness and pain he finds a focus in the woman's voice, using the sound to ground his mind as he follows her instructions.

It must look bad, but he gives her credit for not freaking out. Must have seen blood before, lucky for him. Either that or she's just good in a crisis.]

Can't really discuss it.

[If he hadn't been wearing the coat and carrying the weapons, he might've tried to claim he was simply mugged. As it is, he's not sure if that explanation would be all that believable.] What's... your name?

[ She'll have her freakout later, once there's no longer a man bleeding to death in her apartment. A faint-hearted ninny isn't going to be any use to anyone, and Beauty prides herself on being of a rational and steady temperament.

It is a lot of blood, though. More than she's ever seen, at least. Frank has to be unbelievably tough to take injuries like this and stay conscious and lucid enough to try talking her through helping him. It's pretty impressive. ]

Something sort of gave me the idea that you wouldn't want to.

[ He'll owe her an explanation of some kind eventually, she'll insist on that (something better than a mugging, because yeah, she's not that dumb). But now isn't the time. ]

Beauty. [ She throws another quick glance his way, as if daring him to say something about it, before replacing a bloody wad of gauze and taping down fresh over one of the cuts. ] Wasn't certain you'd welcome a 911 call either, from the looks of you. Is there someone else I should call? Because I have to be honest, there isn't much I can do for you beyond sticking a load of bandages all over you.

[Frank doesn't have anything to say about the name. He doesn't have much to say at all, she'll notice, though it's unclear if that's because he doesn't want to talk or isn't feeling well enough for it.]

No. No one.

[He holds the gauze down as firmly as he can against the stab wound. This is going to be a challenge, but what other choice does he have? He can't have her becoming stressed and calling for an ambulance.]

I need to suture some of these and bandage them. After that I'll be... out of your hair.

[That's the plan. Might end up being messy, but he doesn't really have anyone around to impress. There are already plenty of scars on display over his torso where he'd stitched up older wounds.]

Uh huh. [ Again, not really a surprise. So long as he seems like he'll survive, though, she'd just as soon not have to explain the room full of weapons anyway.

Suturing the worst of the wounds makes sense, but who keeps supplies for things like that just lying around? Other than medical professionals, of which Beauty is not one. ]

Well you aren't going anywhere right away unless it's to hospital. But unless a regular needle and thread will do the trick, I don't know how you expect to stitch anything up. You picked the wrong door to fall on for that, I'm afraid.

[Frank closes his eyes and exhales a slow breath through his nose. He's thinking about doing something ridiculously stupid.

And yet, what other choice does he have? It seems like it's either this, get the cops involved, or bleed out and die on this couch.

At least he keeps his weapons stored safely away. The apartment itself looks incredibly empty and lonely otherwise, with nothing but the bare essentials around. He'll have to trust that she isn't the type to snoop.]

If you're willing to go, the key to my apartment's in my inside left coat pocket. 7E. There's a suture kit and bandages in the cabinet under my bathroom sink.

Edited 2016-09-26 18:25 (UTC)

Of course I'm willing to go! [ Her options are run to his apartment to grab supplies, or let him bleed to death, what kind of choice does he think that is? ] You're absolutely forbidden from doing anything but lie there and breathe until I get back, though. Got it?

[ She pulls the keys out of the coat and takes off in a rush, hoping there aren't any night owls wandering around to notice that she's covered in blood now. It doesn't escape her notice that Frank's place is beyond spartan, but even if she had a mind to snoop around, she's not about to linger and make him wait. Grabbing up the kit and bandages, she's careful to lock the door behind her before running back to her own apartment. ]

All right, best tell me what to do with this.

[During the time that Beauty is off gathering the supplies from his room, Frank disobeys her orders enough to manipulate himself into a sitting position on the couch. It's tough, takes a great deal of focus and hurts a hell of a lot, but he won't be able to stitch himself up lying on his back like that.

Stemming the bleeding has helped him regain enough of his wits for this, he thinks. That and having the chance to sit down and get his weight off that damned knee.]

Give it to me. I'll take care of it. ...Thanks.

[For getting the supplies, not calling the police, and not hassling him for answers. He appreciates it more than it seems.]

[ Frank earns himself an annoyed glare for doing what she specificaly told him not to do. Normally she wouldn't be this bossy, but something about dealing with a man who's stubborn enough to walk home after being stabbed brings it out in her.

Thus, she does not hand over the suture kit. ]

For someone I'm pretty certain is some kind of military, you're pretty awful at following orders. Talk me through it and I'll do it. You can't even stand on your own, I'm not about to give you sharp things to poke at yourself with.

[ Belatedly, she realizes she probably should have been wearing gloves this whole time. It's too late to go back, but at least she can scrub her hands and open up the pair that came with the first aid kit before she handles him any further. ]

[Frank stares blankly at her for a few seconds as if waiting for her to relent and hand him the supplies.

She doesn't.

Well, this is unexpected. Does he want someone who has never stitched a wound stitching him up right now? Hell, he might end up with similar results. Can't hurt to at least have the steady pair of hands.]

Alright. [He leans his head back, working on regulating his breathing and remaining conscious. If he can just get through this... then sleep. Frank waits until Beauty has washed up and put on the gloves before giving her instructions on what to do with the suture kit.]

[ Skin is nothing like fabric or even leather for sewing, but then she didn't expect it to be. At least he's very good at being still, and keeping it to himself when it hurts, so her concentration isn't affected. Beauty does have steady hands, and although she'll never win any awards, she can do a small neat stitch. The first efforts are going to scar something awful, but once she gets the hang of it, she figures it won't turn out too badly. It's not like he'll be able to tell which scars are her fault anyway, he has enough of them.

Once the sutures are done, she cleans him up as best she can and makes sure everything else is bandaged as it needs to be. Then gives him a sort of uncertain, sideways look. ]

All right, well. You're going to have to take the trousers off sooner or later, might as well do it now. Is there anything else? Anything broken, or, I don't know. Shot at?

[The stitching isn't very painful compared to his wounds themselves; he doesn't complain or comment on how Beauty makes them unless she's doing something obviously wrong.

It's a relief to have everything patched up and cleaned, so much so that he almost falls asleep before thinking about his knee.]

Just my knee. Busted it pretty bad, but I think it'll just need a wrap and some time to heal.

[In other words- no. He's not planning on taking off his pants. As far as he's concerned, after a bit of sleep he'll be on his way.]

If I can just sleep for a little while, I'll head home in the morning.

Edited 2016-09-26 20:36 (UTC)

[ Beauty can't imagine why he'd want to stay in bloody clothes, but maybe he's just ridiculously body shy. Not that there's a bit of reason for it, but she's pretending not to notice that. It isn't very polite to ogle a guy when he's as beat up as Frank is. ]

If by 'busted' you mean broken, then just a 'wrap and some time to heal' isn't going to help and you know it.

[ There is an ace bandage in the supplies she got from his apartment, though, so she wraps up his knee as snugly as she dares, and gets him an ice pack to put on it. A pillow and blankets as well, because he is right about one thing -- he needs to rest before he goes anywhere. ]

We'll worry about morning when it gets here. [ She fetches him some acetaminophen and a glass of water, wishing she had something stronger to offer. ]

[More has to do with him not wanting to walk back to his apartment in his underwear, though through his hazy consciousness Frank realizes he could ask her to bring him some clothes too. Should've done it in the first place.]

I don't think it's broken.

[Just... in a great deal of pain. He grunts softly when she wraps the bandage around it, then holds the ice pack in place when she's done.

Before lying down on the pillow he takes the medicine, even if it likely won't have much effect. Beauty has really done a lot for him, and Frank feels like he should be more grateful. It's just difficult these days to care much. About anything save what he does when he goes out at night.]

Worrying later sounds good. [He settles back on the pillow and is out like a light moments later.]

Thank goodness for small favors.

[ She's being awfully flippant about everything, she knows. Call it a defense mechanism against stubborn bleeding strangers.

The speed with which he passes out shouldn't surprise her as much as it does, and there's a freful furrow to her brow as she covers him with the blankets. Once she's certain he's really asleep and not dying, she fully intends to slip back out to his apartment and grab him clean clothes. The key is staying in her possession until she decides he's not going to fall right over halfway home.

There's no way she's going to bed now, so once she's fetched his change of clothes, she cleans up as quietly as she can. Washes his shirt in the sink despite it being pretty much ruined, and her own now-bloodied clothes as well, and finds a box to store his weapons in. Then does as much research as she can on treating knife wounds and knee injuries, just in case.

Eventually, though, her body insists on at least a little sleep. Wanting to stay close in case Frank wakes up in distress from his injuries, she just wraps herself in a blanket and curls up in a mismatched armchair within arm's reach. ]

[When Frank wakes up a few hours later, sunlight is streaming into the living room. He tries to move a little and hisses, his body entirely stiff and aching.

So much for the idea of walking home first thing in the morning.

He glances around where he can and notices Beauty asleep nearby on a chair. He gives her sleeping form a little frown, annoyed that she gave up a comfortable sleep in bed to watch over him.

He isn't supposed to be involved in anyone's lives unless he's ending them. That's what he promised himself. Now he'll probably have to be here for at least another day.]

[ Despite her habit of getting lost in a book and reading late into the night, Beauty's always been a morning person. It isn't the noises Frank makes so much as the bright light itself that wakes her, and she frowns sleepily at nothing in particular as she works to make sense of why she's sleeping in her living room.

Oh. That would be the reason, glaring at her from the couch. Well, at least he made it through the rest of the night, thank goodness. ]

How are you feeling?

[ She stands and stretches, yawning, and pads across the apartment to get more pain meds and water for him. He can drink it while she changes his bandages. ]

I did some research last night. You can't get your stitches wet for 48 hours, but I got you a change of clothes if you'd like to at least put on something clean.

Not too great.

[And for him to admit to someone that he isn't doing physically well means he must be doing truly awful. There's no hiding it anyway; she can see his injuries clear as day and she'd also have a front row seat to his horrible failure if he tried to walk just then.]

You did? [His heart beat quickens for a moment at the thought of her in his apartment again for who knows how long, but considering the way she's speaking to him, he suspects she didn't see anything out of the ordinary.]

Clean clothes would be good. [It will be a relief to get out of these stiff, blood-soaked pants. This young woman has been shockingly good to him in so many ways... Frank has spent so long burying himself in the worst humanity has to offer that he's almost forgotten about the worthwhile people out there.

He takes the water and finally offers something closer to a smile.] Thank you.

Edited 2016-09-27 22:36 (UTC)

Not really surprising.

[ She's sympathetic, answering his smile with a rueful one of her own. ] I suspected you might change your mind about the clothes once all that blood dried. I can help you into the bathroom if you'd like to wash a bit.

[ And have privacy while he changes, although she'd be more than happy to just duck into another room for a few minutes if he isn't interested in leaving the couch. ]

( on your doorstep )

Peter Quill | Guardians of the Galaxy

Re: Peter Quill | Guardians of the Galaxy

no subject

BARRY ALLEN | THE FLASH | OTA

no subject

MICK RORY ( HEATWAVE ) | DCTV | OTA

Grace Ford | OC

Jane Foster || MCU || m/f

Aric Dominija | The Arcana Chronicles

Jamal Lyon | Empire

June Colburn | Don't Trust the B in Apt 23

Rey | SW: TFA | OTA

Morrigan | Dragon Age

Rabastan Lestrange // Harry Potter

Beauty Huston | Beauty | OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject